There is nowhere to be

There is nowhere to be

Other than here

In the shadow of the tree,

Perhaps

There is nowhere to be

But within the imagery.

There is a whole world of history

Between you and me

I would light a candle

But they are never eternal

Nothing ever is but the waiting

Which rolls on forever.

Much like a river

Which looks unchanged

But is always different.

The cost of recollection

A constant drain on my resources

Sweltering in the heat of the day

Freezing at night.

Never a balance of probability

In the meaning of caution

Broken-hearts lie scattered

In Memoriam.

Every word said

Is a whisper of discontent

In the quiet of another moment

Without fulfilment.

Cut flowers smell of camphor

Wilting in the sun

Starlings show respect

By circling in formation

Before deciding on migration

As an escape from their

Lyrical confinement.

It is the least they can do

When they are symbols of freedom

From restriction.

At the close of a day

When the sun goes down

And the shadows play

Across the marble

In a persuasion of remembrance

There is music

And in my heart, I dance with you.